After that, Zoe Lewis used her omnipresent information network to investigate the Reception Lady.
The video captured by the dia indeed seed flawless, but there’s bound to be sothing wrong in the areas the dia couldn’t capture.
Hopefully, it would involve Cherry Lewis, so everyone could see just how vicious she is!
After Zoe was done with everything, she glanced at the clothes soaking in the basin.
Hmm, great, they’ve all turned into a ss of colors, not a single one is wearable now!
She casually rinsed the clothes and then took them out to the yard to dry.
The sky was already dark, so nothing was visible, but tomorrow morning, when Cherry sees these clothes, her expression will be priceless!
Let’s see if she’ll still dare to make her wash clothes again!
Isabella Weaver received a ssage from Zoe Lewis while she was having dinner.
She showed the ssage to Harry Hunter: "Mr. Hunter, it was your ex-fiancé who set you up. I heard she hired a bunch of beauties; they must be for you. You’re in for a treat!"
"It’s not a treat, it’s a punishnt."
Harry Hunter, with a calm deanor, served her a piece of cod, "Don’t ntion ex-fiancé, as if I was very close to her. The engagent was all arranged by our families, not my personal choice."
Isabella ate the fish he served and suddenly rembered about the fish she was raising and hurriedly got up to check, then ca back beaming: "Not a single one of my fish died, looks like I’m taking good care of them!"
"Yes, my Isabella is the best."
Harry Hunter nonchalantly praised her, secretly ssaging Connor to prepare more fish for replenishing at any ti.
Isabella was genuinely pleased with the complint, entirely unaware that her fish had long died; all the little fish looked the sa, and there was no way to tell they’d been swapped.
After dinner, he took Isabella by the hand for a walk outside.
This area was a high-end villa district, with excellent landscaping and very beautiful streetlights, creating an enjoyable and leisurely atmosphere for strolling.
The night breeze blew gently, lifting Isabella’s long hair, exuding a faint fragrance, making Harry feel that spending a lifeti with Isabella like this, he’d never get tired of it. This was the simplest yet most precious happiness.
The two of them strolled, with Connor following at a not-too-distant trail behind.
And behind Connor, three more people followed.
Isabella couldn’t help but glance back several tis: "Why do those three bodyguards look unfamiliar to ? Are they new hires?"
To prevent strangers from sneaking in, Harry always showed Isabella pictures or introduced her to any new bodyguards to ensure no one could impersonate her bodyguard with ill intentions.
Isabella hadn’t seen these three before; they felt different from the usual bodyguards. Besides having a European appearance, they seed both noble and respectful, carrying a contradictory aura similar to Connor at tis.
"They’re not my bodyguards, they’re Connor’s."
"What’s that supposed to an?"
"It ans these people are here to protect Connor, not . They’re here because of him, nothing to do with ."
Isabella was stunned for a while, then finally expressed her shock: "Connor is really a Prince?"
"Those three say so, but Connor himself doesn’t admit it; he insists he’s an orphan."
Isabella fell silent and looked back at Connor, feeling a bit of empathy.
He would rather identify as an orphan than acknowledge his origins, probably because he had long ago lost hope, and thus, didn’t care about his lineage anymore.
But she couldn’t understand; if he is a Prince of noble birth, how could his parents have abandoned him? The Royal House couldn’t possibly be so impoverished as to be unable to raise a child and thus, discarded him, right?
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